Carolina Home (27 page)

Scraps. The kid was hungry for scraps of attention. Affection. His throat closed. She deserved more than that from him. From all of them.

He swallowed hard. “Sure. Bring over that can of anti-seize.”

He showed her how to put anti-seize on the pins, line up the holes, and snug down the bolts. And then they did the whole thing over again on the other side.

“You’ve got to pump the lever, see?” He reached around her to demonstrate. Her hair had that little kid smell, a compound of sweat, sunshine, and shampoo that reminded him of Josh’s baby years. “To engage the pistons.”

She nodded and squeezed the brakes, her little face squinched with concentration, her tongue between her teeth.

“Do you ever actually ride that motorcycle?” Allison
asked from the shed door, her voice rich with amusement. “Or do you just use it to impress women with your mechanical competence?”

Matt turned his head. Allison stood in the doorway, her big brown eyes warm and alight, so beautiful that for a moment he forgot to breathe. He exhaled slowly. “I thought you had a thing, meeting, after school today.”

She nodded. “Student newspaper.”

Taylor hopped to her feet. “Hey, Allison.”

“Hi, sweetie. The graphics art club needed the computer lab,” she said to Matt. “So I dismissed the kids early to work on their individual projects. I told Josh if he and Thalia wanted to work here I’d buy them pizza.”

“Thalia Hamilton? The organic farmers’ kid?”

“Josh and Thalia are writing an article on optimizing athletic performance through diet.”

“Over pizza.” He was amused.

Her answering smile revealed her teeth, white and even. “I am not above bribery. Anyway, that’s three food groups, dairy, grains, vegetables. Want some pizza?” she asked Taylor.

“Do I have to eat the vegetables?”

“Only in tomato sauce.”

“Okay.”

“Go see Josh. He’ll hook you up.” Allison’s gaze met Matt’s. “If you’re done here.”

“We put on new brake pads,” Taylor said proudly.

“I can see that,” Allison said. “They look very…”

“Safe,” Matt supplied, smiling.

“Thank you. Very safe.”

Taylor looked at him from under her cap. “Are we done, Uncle Matt?”

If she were Josh at that age, he’d have ruffled her hair, maybe given her a hug. He tapped the brim of her cap instead. “For now. We’ll do the rear brakes next time.”

His heart squeezed at the doubtful look in her eyes. What did she think? That he would bail on her? Too many adults in her life had done that.

“Unless you don’t want to,” he added.

She shook her head so vigorously her cap almost came off.

He smiled at her. “So what’s the problem?”

“No problem.” Her answering smile, shy and crooked, snagged in his chest like a fishhook. “Can I have pizza now?”

“You bet. You earned it. Good job, kid.”

“Thanks.” She hopped toward the door.

“Okay if your uncle Matt and I go out for a little while?” Allison asked.

Taylor paused on one foot, looking back. “On the motorcycle?”

“Maybe,” Allison said.

“Sure.” Another lightning grin. “More pizza for me.”

She ran off.

Matt rose slowly to his feet, feeling the pull in his thighs and his shoulders. “I thought you were seeing your parents tonight.”

Allison watched Taylor skip up the steps and bang through the back door of the cottage. “We didn’t make any firm plans. I can’t drop everything on a school night to drive three hours into Wilmington and three hours home. I’m totally free and off the clock. Now you are, too.” She turned back to him and smiled, making his blood run hot. “Thalia offered to help Josh babysit.”

Matt hooked his thumbs into his jeans pockets. “Why would she do that?”

“Well, if the pizza wasn’t sufficient inducement, I’m guessing she wanted to spend time with your son.”

His brows rose. “And you figured Josh’s love life could use a push.”

Her cheeks turned as pink as her shirt. “Actually, I thought ours could.”

His brain shifted gear as his blood went from simmer to boil. “You did.”

“I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.” She stepped up to him, her breasts almost touching his chest. Her scent, vanilla and spice, punched him in the lungs. “Want to take me for a ride?”

He rested his hands on her hips. “Baby,” he promised hoarsely, “I will take you anywhere you want to go.”

Her smile bloomed. She looped her arms around his neck, pressing all that soft warmth against him, making his heart pound. “How about my place?”

Heat hazed his brain. But he couldn’t just disappear with her for an hour and get naked. He had responsibilities.

He inhaled. “I should probably…You sure the kids are okay?”

“Mm.”
She kissed his neck. “Thalia has four younger brothers and sisters. I think she can keep Taylor in line.”

Taylor.

“I talked to her,” he said.

“I saw.” Her hair tickled his jaw.

“It didn’t do any good,” he confessed. “She won’t tell me what’s bothering her, and she doesn’t want to see a counselor.”

Allison raised her head. “There’s more than one way to communicate, Matt. Taylor is obviously coming to trust you. I’d say you’re doing fine.”

Her approval, her optimism, made him feel good. So did the way she rested her weight against him, her breasts, belly, thighs.

He cleared his throat. “What about Josh?”

Teenagers and an empty house were not a good combination. He’d been a teenager. He knew.

Allison looked him in the eye. “Josh and Thalia are not a couple. Anyway, he’s your son. Do you really think he would try something with Taylor right there?”

“No,” Matt admitted.

“All right, then. I figure we have almost two hours before dinner. I say we make the most of it.”

He could do that. No promises, no commitments, just making the most of whatever time they had.

Even if it was no more than an hour stolen from the rest of his life.

He handed her a helmet and then showed her how to put it on. He jumped the start and flexed his wrist, and the bike roared and rattled to life. Allison slid on behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

The afternoon was soft and bright. The air rushed at them, rich with salt and sharp with juniper. The bike thrummed and throbbed, the black road unspooling, the landscape sliding away, as if he were eighteen and free and had everything ahead of him.

He knew the freedom was only an illusion, of course. But it felt good to travel the road with Allison pressed against him, leaning into him on the curves.

A
LLISON STRETCHED BETWEEN
her sheets, basking in sunshine and contentment, as warm and melty as butter on pancakes, watching Matt step over their discarded clothes on his way to the bathroom.

“Nice butt,” she called.

He turned his head, all the lines smoothed from his brow, his smile cracking across his lean, stubbled face, and her breath actually caught, he was so beautiful. What they had shared was beautiful.

Meg was wrong.

Matt did care about her, this was special, she was different
from all his other women. He couldn’t touch her like that, be with her like this, and not care.

And to hell with all the women in literature and throughout history who had probably told themselves the same thing.

She lay there listening to the sound of running water, shivering a little with longing and regret, because the past hour had been wonderful, nothing in the world was as wonderful as making love with Matt and now, for now, it was over.

He came out of her bathroom, naked, broad and solid and unself-conscious, and she melted some more.

He picked up his jeans.

Oh, well.
She sat up.

“You don’t have to get up,” he said.

She glanced at her bedside clock. Five thirty. “Yeah, I do. I doubt the kids left enough pizza for dinner.”

“Meg made a stew. Yesterday, before she left for Greenville. I’ll heat some up.”

Oh.

Allison plucked at the sheet, mentally regrouping. “Have you talked to her? How’s your mom?”

Matt’s head disappeared briefly inside his shirt as he tugged it over his head. “Mom’s doing good. They removed the chest tube today. As long as her chest cavity stays clear, they should be able to move her to a step-down unit tomorrow.”

He sounded distracted. He hadn’t yet put on his shoes, but with every word she felt him drawing away, going away from her in his mind.

She struggled to follow. “Does that mean Meg will go back to New York?”

“She has to. She’s got stuff to do. Work stuff.”

So do you, Allison thought. “I hope she’ll take a little time for herself.”

“Not much chance of that.”

“She mentioned things were busy at the office. But it’s not going to help her to pile on more stress. Ultimately, she needs a balanced life. We all do. You, me, everyone.”

“You sound like a guidance counselor.”

Allison refused to be offended. “Does that bother you?”

“No.” He looked away. “Maybe. My family’s not some project, Allison.”

“Of course not.” But she needed to make Matt see that his sister wasn’t the only one who needed some time to process her feelings, to regain some balance in her life. She tried again. “I’m just saying it may benefit Meg to get back to her normal routine, but she also needs some space. You know, to deal with everything that’s been going on.”

Matt sat—not next to Allison on the bed, but in a chair across the room—to pull on his socks.

Okay, so he didn’t want to talk about his sister or his feelings or his family’s trauma.

Not a problem.

Allison threw back the sheet. “Give me five minutes to shower, and I’ll come with you.”

His gaze dipped. She flushed as he took her with his eyes, making her feel beautiful. Desired.

He shook his head. “You don’t have to. I should hit the road.”

Alone? she thought.

“I’ll see you later, then,” she said brightly. She was not going to indulge in hurt feelings. Matt had a lot on his mind. A lot on his plate. This wasn’t about her. “I probably should drive my own car, anyway.”

“I mean, you don’t have to come over tonight.”

A chill chased over her. “What are you talking about?”

He pocketed his keys and wallet. “Like you said, you need to get back to your routines.”

Her mouth gaped. “I wasn’t talking about me!”

“Yeah?” He shot her a dark, unreadable look. “What was all that talk about needing your own space?”

“That wasn’t…I didn’t…What just happened here?”

He scooped his jacket off the floor. Shrugged into it. “I had a good time. I thought you did, too. We both needed the break. But break time’s over, and I’ve got a pile of shit to deal with at home.”

He might as well have slapped money on the dresser.

She grabbed the sheet and wrapped it around her, feeling suddenly exposed and angry. Hurt, too. “I am not just a
good time
. I am not somebody you sleep with when you need a fucking break.”

He scowled. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant you don’t have to spend every spare minute taking care of me and the kids.”

“What else should I do with my time? I’m not one of your summer flings. I’m not here because I need you to show me a good time. I’m here. I’m staying. Don’t make this out to be less than what it is. Don’t make me out to be less than what I am.”

His face darkened with frustration. “Damn it, Allison, I’m not taking advantage of you. Not more than I already have.”

“I’m offering to help.”

“How much help? For how long? You don’t know.” He ran his fingers through his thick, sun-streaked hair. “Hell, I don’t know. It could be weeks before Mom gets out of rehab. It could be months before things get back to normal. You could be in for way more than you bargained for.”

“And you think my help comes with an expiration date? You think I’m suddenly going to turn on you and say, ‘Oh, sorry, Matt, I can’t do this anymore, it’s too much’ ?”

His eyes flickered. His face set.

He did, she thought, her heart twisting. That’s exactly what he thought. What he was afraid of.

But he said, “No, I don’t. You’ve been great. You’ve done everything anybody could ask. Hell, you’ve done things I didn’t even know needed doing.” His eyes were dark and level. “But I won’t let you shortchange yourself or your work because of me.”

Her breath deserted her. Her anger died. He was such a good guy, she thought.

Such a dear, good,
pigheaded
guy.

“So, what, you’re going to do it all yourself? Take care of your parents and the kids, run the inn and the boat business by yourself?”

His jaw set, mule stubborn. “If I have to.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. You don’t have to. You need help.”

“Then I’ll hire somebody to cover at the inn. Part time, on the weekends.”

She crossed her arms over the sheet. “That’s not enough, and you know it. I’m not going to shortchange my students. But I’m not going to stand by and do nothing while you work and worry yourself to death.”

He glared, clearly frustrated. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to accept my help!”

“That’s it?”

“Yes!” she snapped. Their gazes locked, both of them breathing harder. After a long moment, she looked away, muttering, “Well, and it wouldn’t kill you to say thank you.”

He crossed the room to her. She felt his heat. Stared at his shoes.

His arms came around her gently as he gathered her close, fitting her against him, breast and belly and thighs, two halves of one whole. He pressed a kiss to her hair.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

With one finger under her chin, he urged her head up. His eyes were deep and turbulent as the sea. He inhaled
once, sharply, and then laid his lips on hers, his kiss gentle, seeking, hungry, taking and giving in equal measure, and she opened her mouth and kissed him back, promising everything, giving him everything.

When he raised his head, she was trembling.

The smallest smile indented one corner of his mouth. “Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome.” Her voice shook. She cleared her throat. “What are friends for?”